Old Mama…

I recently celebrated my 45th birthday, and as I approach higher numbers on that good ol’ lifeline…I accept more and more my limitations. I’d like to say I am a young 45 year old, but if you watched me closely every day, you will realize I may be disillusioned and possibly experiencing dementia. If you saw me from afar, say like 5 blocks away, you might say to yourself, “look at that cute blonde!” However, as you walked closer and closer to me, you may start to focus in on the telltale signs of wear: graying hair, wrinkles, flappy skin, cellulite leg coverage etc. Oh there are many, my friends! Can you relate? Top this sundae with a pair of active and high maintenance children (adjective redundant, I know) and you have quite the super-size combo of aging on steroids. Not sure what the heck that really means, but for some reason, I believe you understand.

I am going to share some of the few realizations I have slowly accepted with much pain and solace through these ever aging years of child rearing and see if you happen to have similar signs. Here we go!

You know you are getting old when you go to bed every night with an ice pack under your back.

You know you are getting old when you can’t fit or maneuver your sorry hips into a swing at the playground. Who am I kidding? When you can’t “maneuver” at the playground at all.

You know you are getting old when you try to run in a game of tag and immediately say “I’m out, my feet hurt!”

You know you are getting old when you are up all night with a sick kid and it takes a full week to recover. God forbid you are up for several days, and then it takes a season to recover.

You know you are getting old when you are extremely hung-over from one margarita.

You know you are getting old when almost everything you eat gives you gas.

You know you are getting old when you begin to call your grays “silver highlights”.

You know you are getting old when you try to be “cool” with your kids’ friends and realize that even the word “cool” is totally two decades ago. (And apparently “totally” is too.)

You know you are getting old when you start to appreciate that even though you want a girls night out, you start to yawn around 9:00pm.

You know you are getting old when acceptance is your mantra…
Every. Single. Day.

You know you are getting old when your exercise options at the gym dwindle down to two. (I can’t do that one, hurts my back. I can’t do that one, hurts my feet. Oh Lord I can’t even go near that one! I hurt just looking at it! Stair or Spin? Neither. I don’t have my knee brace.)

You know you are getting old when your son looks at you with terrified eyes and squeals in horror: “MOMMY’S TURNING INTO A GRANDMA!” (See post here: http://themomcafe.com/grandma…-really/)

You know you’re getting old when you have to write down Every. Single. Thing. In order to remember it.

You know you’re getting old when you have to eat Activia every day or else…

You know you’re getting old when your arm skin flaps in the wind when you wave goodbye.

You know you’re getting old when you can’t see a thing without your glasses.

I could go on and on and on… (another sign of age) But I would rather read your comments about how you age!!! Come on now, bring me your BEST!

Comments

OH I LOVE YOU!!!!!! So funny! I do have energy, never needed more of that! But oh the ailments and flappy skin! You my dear, have that “cool” teen energy. Oh wait, I suppose “Cool” isn’t in your language, it means hip, oh that probably isn’t either! How do I say? Chillin’ energy! Is that good? LOL

OH honey, can I relate! I agree with the previous post – you have more energy than me at least 3x over! I think of getting older not as the aches and pains (which there are in abundance) but developing into the women that God has made us into and be comfortable in that skin! Love your post!

Found my way here via the SITS girls and just loved your humor! I’m approaching 37 and just wrote about my own workout challenges, so in my own way I can certainly relate. Here’s my addition to your list. “You know you’re getting old when your husband spends Saturday night slathering your legs with BenGay for you!”

I know I’m old when the first step in doing yard work or a big cleaning job is taking ibuprofen to head of the muscle aches that are sure to follow. And following up with more every six hours for a couple of days. Ugh!

And my gray hairs are stark white. I kind of like them in my hair, but not in my eyebrows! Eek!

Um, do I know it or what?????!!!!! Actually, that would put me at 15 years old, and you and I both know you are over shooting it a bit!!! I think I got stuck at around 12. 😉 And as for my looks… I will be sure to give you one heck of a slimy kiss and long awkward hug next time I see you for that compliment!!! WOOT! (Can’t wait!)